


Where We Belong

by aglionbyfoxes



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Andreil, Dubious Consent, M/M, Moulin Rouge AU, alcohol mention, background dan/matt, background kevaaron, but once the story goes on i'll change the rating/add tags as need be, i promise no foxes were killed in the making of this au, make note of the lack of 'character death' warning, slightly ooc andrew bc he had to be a little bit of a sensitive writer, so i guess also kind of prostitute au?, there's really not a lot to tag at the moment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 15:44:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13550478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aglionbyfoxes/pseuds/aglionbyfoxes
Summary: Sunrise, truth, death, beauty - maybe even love. These are the things that Andrew believes in. They're why he is in Paris, why he is writing. He doesn't expect to start believing in a blue eyed courtesan with a sharp tongue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moulin Rouge makes me cry and so does AFTG so why not bring them together. Also who doesn't want the image of Andrew singing love songs to Neil on a rooftop in paris, amirite ladies?

_ The boy I love...is dead. _

 

Andrew had been staring at that line on the paper for hours. Well, hours of today. If he was being truthful with himself (which right now he would rather not be), he had been staring at that line for days. It was a morbid start to a story, he knew, but there was something about those words that wouldn’t leave him. Unfortunately that was no help to him, since now he was stuck with a sentence he could neither move forward with, or forget. Andrew didn’t usually make a habit of regretting his decisions - regret was a waste of time. But right now he thinks he might be close. 

They had left London almost a month ago now - there hadn’t been any reason to stay. Nicky’s father had already kicked the three of them out, their only goodbye a few hissed words in the middle of the night before being practically shoved out of the house. “Go, join that village of sin. I won’t be responsible for you anymore.” Luthor had spat at their feet before slamming the door in their faces. The words hadn’t gotten to Andrew, he couldn’t care less about what a man like Luthor thought about him. But he could see the way Nicky had been affected and something close to hatred curled in his gut. Up until that point he had only been considering going to Paris with Aaron. He had no interest in studying chemistry like his brother. But the school he was going to be attending was only an hours walk from Montmartre. Whereas Aaron’s strengths lay in the sciences, Andrew’s were his words. Not that anyone would be able to tell from trying to have a conversation with him, as Nicky often joked. 

Andrew wouldn’t fashion himself a Romantic but...there are some things he believed in. Sunrise, truth, death, beauty. Maybe even love. All of that came out in his writing, so it didn’t matter to him how people saw him. And if there was any place to be a writer right now, it was Paris. 

They rented a shitty apartment in the shittiest part of Montmartre, right across from the Moulin Rouge. It wasn’t nice but it was cheap, and Nicky was able to find work at the club. When he had first told Andrew where he was going to be every night, Andrew had...maybe admittedly overreacted. It wasn’t until Nicky had told him it would just be at the bar, not as one of the courtesans or dancers, that Andrew had unpinned him from the wall. It’s not that Andrew judged the people employed there, he didn’t care what they did with their lives. But he knew how the patrons of places like the Moulin Rouge treated the workers. Andrew would never be able to live with himself if he let his family take on that kind of life. Especially not for his sake. 

But now Andrew was stuck. They had been here nearly three weeks and all he had to show for it was one measly line on the page. If he couldn’t come up with something - anything - soon, he would have to find real work. Up until this point Nicky had been providing for both him and Aaron, and the club certainly didn’t pay well enough to support them for long. More often than not Andrew spent his days sitting at his typewriter, dark thoughts clouding every flicker of an idea that crossed his mind. A mantra of -  _ it’s not worth the disappointment, why do you even bother  _ \- grew from a dull thud to pounding beat in his head, only getting louder as the days went by. 

The only real break Andrew had from his own thoughts were nights when both Nicky and Aaron were home - and even sometimes those weren’t much of a break. On this night in particular, Nicky had been able to bring back food given to him by someone at the club. Just some dried meats and cheese but more than they usually got to eat at any given time. Andrew watched Aaron scribbling away, eyes darting between his book and the paper, squinting in the dim light to make out the words he was copying down. In a way Andrew was jealous - if only his brain could be as open as that book, then all he would have to do was put his fingers to the keys and the words would flow. On the other hand, he thought with a slight twist of his lips, Aaron would surely kill to be allowed to use Andrew’s typewriter right about now, so maybe he shouldn’t feel too jealous.

“All I’m saying is,” Nicky slurs loudly, despite being just across the cramped main room of their apartment, “how are you supposed to write about love if you’ve never even  _ been _ in love?” Andrew’s cousin was already talkative by nature, but the absinthe he liked to drink on his nights off made him annoyingly so. 

Aaron looked up from his books for the first time all night. “And you have, Nicky?” He shot Andrew a sly look before turning his eyes back down. All Andrew could do was scowl and tune Nicky out. Once he got going on a tangent about Erik, Nicky wasn’t likely to stop for at least an hour, or unless the sun fell out of the sky. 

In this case, the sun took the form of an unconscious giant falling through their roof. The three of them peered up into the newly made hole connecting their apartment to the one above and were met with the smiling face of a girl dressed as a nun. Before any of them could say anything she was gone, but Andrew followed her footsteps as she ran down the stairs and through their door. 

“How do you do? My name is Renee Natalie Shields.” Renee gracefully stepped over the still unconscious giant, as if this was something that happened every day, and held out her hand to Andrew. He flicked his eyes down and then back up to meet hers, not making any move to reach out to her. 

Her smile didn’t waver as Nicky stepped out from behind Aaron and shook her hand. “I’m Nicky. These are my cousins, Andrew and Aaron.”

“I’m really so sorry about this, we were rehearsing a play and well,” Renee gestured to the man on the floor, “Matt has narcolepsy, he just falls right asleep at any time of the day.” Andrew noticed Aaron perk up a little bit at that and he came forward, not even acknowledging Renee before flipping Matt over to lay on his back. Andrew watched as he pulled smelling salts from god knows where and passed the bottle under Matt’s nose, waking him up instantly. 

“Hm, I didn’t actually expect that to work.” Aaron turned away as quickly as he came and began scribbling in his journal. Andrew doesn’t hold back from rolling his eyes. 

Nicky is peering up again through hole in their ceiling. “So you said you were working on a play?”

This time it’s Matt who answers, once he’s made himself comfortable on the only chair in the apartment. Andrew can immediately tell from the broad smile that crosses his face that he’ll get along well with Nicky. “Yes! Called ‘Fine, Fine!’. It’s a modern play about a German athlete, who’s sensitive. And an artist! And a goatherd! I’m the writer and lead, and Renee is composing the music but unfortunately...” Matt looks over at Renee and she comes and rests her hand on his shoulder before turning to Andrew.

“Unfortunately we possibly have a meeting with the financier tomorrow and the play isn’t finished. Matt’s condition makes it hard to write or perform anything on a deadline. It’s not his fault but it’s probably the only chance we’ll get to meet with him.” Andrew is not in the mood to listen to other people’s issues when he has so many of his own at the moment. As he opens his mouth to speak Renee’s eyes catch on the typewriter still resting on the table behind him. “You’re a writer?” She looks at him and he can see the hope written all over her face. 

Nicky interjects before Andrew can answer. “He is! And very good at it too - he could help you with your play.”

“My cousin is speaking under the assumption that I actually want to help you. Which I don’t. I’m not in the habit of picking up strays.” Andrew stares directly at Renee, hoping he won’t have to press any harder for his words to sink in. 

Matt speaks up from where he’s now splayed in the chair “You obviously want to write if you’re here. So what is it? Don’t you believe in truth? In beauty?”

“Or what about love, Andrew? Surely you believe in love?” Andrew hates the earnest look in Renee’s eyes. Hates the stifled laugh he hears from Nicky at his side. But most of all he hates the eager way the voice in his head answers the questions they ask him.  _ Yes, yes, yes, of course I believe in love - love is like oxygen, All you need is love _ .

Andrew pauses as he finds his words, not wanting his emotions to show through his voice. “And what is your plan exactly? Write a play by tomorrow to present to who? Who will be funding this?” This is the first time all night that Renee looks away from him when they’re speaking. “Well?”

“Well...we’re hoping to get money from the owner of the Moulin Rouge --” 

Nicky interrupted again, and Andrew didn’t think it was the absinthe anymore. “David Wymack? I know he’s charitable, but I don’t think he’s in the business of  _ plays _ exactly.”

This time Matt answered, not once looking as doubtful about their situation as Renee seemed - a fact that Andrew didn’t appreciate when he was trying to be convinced. “He wants to make the Moulin Rouge a more reputable place, with real shows and everything. I know a dancer there, Dan Wilds, she’s close with Wymack and thinks she can convince him to buy our play from us.” 

Andrew sees Nicky nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye and turns to him. “You know her?”

“I do…” Nicky says, but Andrew can tell he’s holding something back and stares at him until he continues. That trick works every time. “I don’t know if Dan has the sway with Wymack that you need. The club is suffering and - no offence - but we’ve heard you practicing, these walls are thin. I don’t know if what you have is good enough to convince Wymack to invest in. Now if you could get a meeting with one of his vixens, they might be able to convince him that this is a good idea. With Andrew’s help, of course.” Andrew caught Aaron’s eye and knew they were thinking the same thing. Any money that this brought in for them right now would help the weight on Nicky’s shoulders. It just so happens that this might also be what Andrew needs to clear the dark fog from his thoughts. A good distraction, and maybe even some inspiration. 

Aaron’s interest was finally peaked now that he might get something out of this too. He abandoned his books to join the conversation. “And who are the vixens exactly?”

Renee smiles softly. “Wymack calls all of his dancers his ‘fine foxes’. It’s a fitting name -  he only takes in the prettiest people but all of them are clever, and know what they want and how to get it. His two prized courtesans are the twin Vixens - Nathaniel and Kevin. They’re a pair and they’re, well…” Andrew can tell she’s at a loss for words.

“Stunning?”

“Perfect?”

Matt and Nicky answer at the same time, matching blushes creeping above their collars. Andrew has never set foot inside the club, barely set foot outside the apartment in all the time that they’ve been here. But he can’t picture anyone so beautiful as to leave three people stammering messes. 

“We’ll help you. But only if we get our shares of the profit on this. All three of us.” If they don’t take this offer, they don’t have him, Andrew thinks. 

“All three of you? We haven’t even heard any of your  _ poetry _ yet.” The way Matt sneers through the word is enough to make Andrew want to hit him, but he restrains himself, at the very least for Nicky’s sake. Instead he turns to the small desk in the corner, trying to hide how his hands are shaking from the rest of the room. He’s shared his writing with Aaron and Nicky before - his stories, his notes, and even his poetry. But this was the first time he’d be sharing it with strangers, and the fear of being so open to anyone else left Andrew raw. 

And yet. 

There was a part of him, that small, stupid voice, that wanted nothing more than to put it all out to the world. Bare his feelings and fuck anyone who so much as tried to use them against him. In the split second it took for him to turn around, his decision was made. 

“ _ The hills are alive, with the sound of music...with songs they have sung, for a thousand years. _ ” Andrew sang the words out loud, breath shaky but solid as he finished the verse. All of their eyes were on him - even Nicky and Aaron, who had read his work before, had never heard him sing it. “Well? Is it what you need?” Andrew didn’t care if he sounded biting, he wouldn’t let himself stand here with them gaping at him.

“Andrew that was - “

“Exactly what we’re looking for - “

“Why have you never let us hear before?”

They were all clamoring over each other and Andrew couldn’t take it, had to put the cage back around the fluttering in his chest that felt like something  _ good  _ before it turned into something that wasn’t. He knew from experience that it always turned into something that wasn’t. 

“There’s still a matter of the other two.” Matt was making himself more dislikable every time he opened his mouth. But Renee seemed to have a talent for jumping into the conversation whenever Andrew was about to say something that would ruin whatever tentative arrangement they have. 

“I’m sure we could find something for them. We need a new props person after Seth left us, and Aaron seems like he might have some tricks up his sleeve that could come in handy. And I’m sure Nicky could get us our appointment with Nathaniel and Kevin. Does that work for you all?” Renee smiles at each of them, and Andrew sees something sharp in it that betrays the quiet act she’s put on all night. It doesn’t leave any room for doubt. “Plus there are two of them, it might help having both of you go in to speak.” Andrew raises an eyebrow at Renee. He was not intending to have any active role in this scenario. “You see...Wymack knows us. We’ve, er, propositioned him before. And he knows that Nicky is working at the club. It can only be you two. We have some suits, upstairs, old costumes that could fit you both. We’ll tell the vixens that you’re famous writers, from England.” 

He looks to Aaron and tries to read his expression - Andrew imagines it looks about the same as his right now. They have no choice, they need the money.  _ And you get to be a real writer _ \- the voice in his head whispers. Andrew ignores it like he has all night, like he has for years. 

“We’ll do it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you for reading this! I've never written a real multichapter fic before, but I'm hoping to keep on as much as a schedule as possible. I'm going to start ambitiously and say that this will update once a week, but at the very worst, it'll be every two weeks! If you have any questions about this AU or wanna talk in general hit me up @aglionbyfoxes on tumblr!
> 
> Now for the fun stuff, the historical/background notes (since it's just the beginning there's only one, but as we get further into the nitty gritty, this segment will probably get a little more interesting :
> 
> \- the school aaron is going to is La Sorbonne in paris. It was closed for a while due to the revolution taking place in france but reopened in the late 1880s. Moulin Rouge takes place in 1899, so he would be studying there relatively soon after it had reopened
> 
> \- the school is about one hours walk from around where their apartment would be, maybe a little bit more. I'd imagine that wouldn't be too bad of a distance at the time, especially for a poor student who would probably prefer cheaper living arrangements! I really don't think aaron would be picky (plus the first subway system didn't open in paris until the early 1900s, so he just missed the cutoff)


	2. Chapter 2

The Moulin Rouge. 

It was impossible not to know about it. Even back in London, Andrew had heard rumors, heard whispers. When Aaron had announced that he was going to Paris to study, Luthor had thrown a fit, claiming that he would just waste all of his time and money in the club with a cancan dancer in his lap. In all their time in Paris though, Nicky was the only one who had been inside. 

Andrew was overwhelmed stepping through the doors. He had thought that the red paint and flashing lights on the outside of the building had been obnoxious enough, but that was nothing compared to the inside. Men and women both were flocking in in hordes, already buzzing with anticipation - and probably the champagne that was being passed around liberally. Andrew grabbed Aaron’s sleeve, pulling his brother closer to him as they followed Matt and Renee through the halls. Half dressed boys and girls milled around the crowds, teasing and flirting. They leaned in close to whisper in the ear of whoever was nearest to them, under the guise of being heard over the music. 

Andrew was actually shocked with how loud it was, a heavy bass blaring, rattling the walls. Their apartment was just across the street and he never heard any of it. That fact only added to the mystery surrounding the building. Everywhere Andrew looked were dark corridors and hidden doorways, although it was no secret what they were for. Finally, they passed through another set of doors. These was large enough to allow the hundreds of patrons to crowd into the massive room beyond them without getting crushed. 

Andrew scanned the crowd until he found Nicky clearing a table right on the edge of the main floor. His cousin looked different here. The glitter in his hair caught the light from the stage and Andrew could just make out the orange paint that swirled in patterns along his skin. But he didn’t look uncomfortable, if anything he was more at ease here than he ever had been back in London. The smile plastered on his face was too wide, fake and teasing for his customers as he passed them, but it eased into something Andrew recognized when their group caught his attention. He waved them over, not even bothering to call out as the music was still at full blast. 

Nicky pointed them in the direction of the table he had just cleaned, and made his way over, facing them as they sat down. He was so easy to read, and Andrew knew right away that something was wrong. 

“I have to make this quick, so pretend like I’m taking your order down. Kevin and Nathaniel already have a meeting tonight.” Nicky chewed on his lip, a nervous habit. 

“Shit.” Matt slammed his hand on the table, causing Aaron to jump. “Sorry. But how is that possible? Dan hadn’t mentioned anything about that.” 

“Wymack has a potential investor. All I know about him is that he refers to himself as The King.” Nicky rolls his eyes. “He would give us the money we need to turn this place into a real theatre. Apparently he wants to...discuss...plans with the vixens tonight, after the show.” 

Andrew doesn’t know when he began to take this whole thing personally. It had only been one day, but he was already angry at the idea of losing this. And angry at himself for getting too attached. He wasn’t going to give up so easily. “What does he look like? One of you can distract him, and Aaron and I will go and meet with the vixens.”

“That won’t work.” Andrew could tell that Nicky was getting anxious. He had spent too much time at their table without it being suspicious and he kept looking around him as he spoke. “No one knows what he looks like, apparently when he got here this morning his bodyguard hid him from view. He sounds like an asshole to me but -” 

Aaron speaks up for the first time since they got there, “Nicky, go back to work, we’ll figure something out. Let us know if you hear anything.” After having been separated for most of their lives, Andrew was always surprised when Aaron’s train of thought followed his own so closely. Nicky left and Andrew looked around the room again. It seemed like things were settling down, people were finding their seats and pulling stray workers into their laps. But the music was as loud as ever.

Next to him Renee raised her arm, calling over someone Andrew couldn’t see until she parted through the wall of people and landed in Matt’s lap. His arms wrapped around her waist and he pressed his lips to her neck without a word said between them. Andrew felt anger bubbling up, but Renee rested a hand on his shoulder. “That’s Dan - Matt’s fiancé.” 

The girl turned to face the rest of them, her short dark hair bobbing with the movement. “You talked to Nicky?” Matt nodded, propping his chin on her shoulder casually. An unrecognizable feeling tugged on Andrew’s heart.  “We talked about what to do before you got here. I don’t know if there’s any sure way to get you alone with Nathaniel and Kevin but I did hear something from Allison.” Dan leaned closer to the table, looking comically serious and Andrew rolled his eyes. “He has a tattoo, on his face. She said she didn’t get a good look, but it seemed to be a 1.”

Suddenly the music stopped and the silence ringing in Andrews ears was deafening. Dan leapt off of Matt, pecked him on the lips and ran off without glancing back. Andrew couldn’t imagine anything being that easy with someone. Sure there had been men in his life - chaste kisses in hidden corners with boys back in the orphanage in London. And as he got older, in the clubs he would visit with Nicky and Aaron. He had been thinking about the last time with Roland before they left with increasing frequency - but even that had never felt the way it looked between Matt and Dan. A drumroll and the dimming of lights brought Andrew out of his thoughts. It wasn’t worth dwelling over his love life now. He needed to pull off this meeting - he may not have anyone in his life, but he had his writing, and that was enough.   

A tall man in a bright red tuxedo stepped onto the stage, moving between the dancers as the music picked up again. Andrew could only imagine that this was David Wymack - owner of the Moulin Rouge and of his ‘Fine Foxes’. His sleeves were rolled up to show ink trailing his arms and he held a top hat in one hand and a staff in the other. He moved to the middle of the stage and the cheering crowds circled around him, scrambling out of their seats trying to get any glimpse or grab at the girls and boys dancing around him. Andrew was only half interested by it all - there was no denying that the people Wymack employed were beautiful, and Andrew let his eyes wander over the half dressed bodies on the stage, but that’s not why he was here.

Wymach finally addressed the crowds, who were near ravenous at this point. “If life's an awful bore, and living's just a chore, that you do because death’s not much fun. I’ve got just the antidote, at the Moulin Rouge!” The man knows how to play a crowd, Andrew will give him that. He doubts any of the excitement is real - this is a business where lying is the only way to get ahead. But Wymack seems nearly genuine and it does him well. The crowds surge, lunging at the dancers as they begin to lift up their skirts, hinting at the rainbows of frills underneath. Wymack points his staff at the band and roars “The CanCan!” The music speeds up and suddenly Andrew is thankful they have seats where they do. The center of the room is a whirlwind, dancers meeting with men on the floor, skirts raised all the way up now, people being pulled in every direction. Andrew loses track of Wymack then, although he still hears his voice, seemingly floating above the rest of the noise. He’s singing along to the music, goading the patrons on, encouraging them to unwind. And then as quickly as the chaos had started, it stopped. The dancers all moving to the side of the floor, allowing the rest of the men and women to convene in the center. They all looked up eagerly. Andrew didn’t know what was happening but it looked as if everyone else did. He found Aaron’s questioning eyes but noticed that Renee and Matt seemed to be transfixed on the ceiling, just like everyone else. The music had stopped again but this time all the lights shut off. No one spoke, as if they were scared one sound would keep whatever they were waiting for from happening. 

This is what Andrew knows - that a spotlight shines into the open air above their heads. That a trapeze wide enough to fit two people descends from the darkness. That he can feel his heart stop in his chest. That he is very much in trouble.

There are two boys on the trapeze, and the one has his back facing Andrew. He’s tall and dark and his muscles shift around his shoulders as he moves, wide and strong. But Andrew hardly notices his him other than for the simple fact that he happens to be pressed up against the other boy - the boy that is facing him.  

Stunning is the only word on loop in Andrew’s head as he watches him bend backwards on the bar. Andrew swears that he’s never seen auburn hair that looks so much like molten copper or blue eyes that so much resemble the sky in summer. His outfit (both their outfits, Andrew thinks distantly, matching) shimmers and catches the light and draws Andrew’s eyes down his body before he can even catch himself. 

Renee sees him staring and leans over, whispering in his ear so that she can be heard above the now roaring crowd - “That’s Nathaniel.” 

Slowly the trapeze begins to spin and suddenly Kevin is facing them. Andrew hears Aaron’s breath catch next to him, but chooses to ignore it, for now. The silence had broken long ago, whistles and cheers filling the space of the room. And while everyone is pushing forward, pushing up, trying to get closer, Andrew catches on a movement in the opposite direction, out of the corner of his eye. Wymack is standing with someone a few tables down from their own, sweeping his arm towards the scene above them, as Nathaniel and Kevin begin to sing. The man he’s talking to is taking it all in hungrily. It’s not a look that Andrew appreciates. It’s purely by chance that the room lights up as he turns to face Wymack, and Andrew can see the tiny roman numeral traced onto his cheek. This must be the King. 

Andrew makes sure to point him out to Renee, Matt and Aaron before turning back towards the stage. Kevin and Nathaniel were earthbound again, no longer flying on the trapeze, but Andrew thinks that they were better suited to that lofty position. The way they’re toying with the crowd doesn’t do anything to change his mind. The two seem attached at the hip, movements constantly mirroring the other. Their eyes never linger on one person for long, just skimming over the sea of faces. But somehow Andrew swears he catches both of them looking his way longer than anyone else. It’s miniscule, hardly seconds more than how they are for the others and he thinks he must be fooling himself. Hands are reaching for just a touch or acknowledgment from the two boys, but they seem to barely notice, as if they’re above all this. Andrew hates the way it only makes him want to get closer to Nathaniel. 

The smaller boy bends forward towards someone’s outstretched arm and places his hand in theirs as he sings. “ _ A kiss on the hand may be quite continental, but diamonds are a boy’s best friend. _ ” 

Kevin quickly steals him back, spinning Nathaniel to the side of the stage closest to Andrew before taking his place in the crowd, pressed up against someone probably twice his age. “ _ A kiss may be grand but it won’t pay the rent, on your humble flat - _ ” Suddenly there are blue eyes blocking Andrew’s view of anything else.

“ _ Or help you feed your pussycat! _ ” Nathaniel throws his head back and his hips forward on that last word. Before Andrew realizes what’s happening, Nathaniel is pulling him up out of his seat and into the middle of the floor. The song changed again but Andrew doesn’t even notice, can’t see or hear anything other than the beautiful boy in his arms. Somewhere along the way Nathaniel had changed outfits and the pale pink silk and feathers blended against his skin almost seamlessly. There's something about the way his eyes catch the light and they seem even more impossibly blue and Andrew doesn’t know what he’s doing here.

“I’m only a fox, not a dog, I promise I won’t bite.” Nathaniel bats his eyes down at Andrew, standing only a few inches taller. He hasn’t said one word so far and he knows he’s wasting an opportunity. Andrew had a goal here, and it didn’t have anything to do with mapping out the freckles sprinkled across Nathaniel’s face.

“Nicky mentioned that maybe we could,” Andrew’s words froze in his throat as Nathaniel crouched between his legs, right in the middle of the room. A second later he was back on his feet, swaying his hips in time to the music but Andrew was still struck. “That maybe we could talk in private for a...poetry reading.” Andrew’s voice sounded stiff to his own ears but if Nathaniel noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“A poetry reading? Oh...I love a little poetry after supper.” he purred. And with that Nathaniel pressed himself up against Andrew one last time before turning away into Kevin’s waiting arms. Aaron stood a little ways away, looking just as breathless as Andrew felt. When he caught Andrew staring he looked away but walked closer to his brother. 

“He...he said we could talk tonight and go over your poetry. I’m assuming he meant before the meeting with the King?” Aaron still wasn’t looking at Andrew but rather at Kevin’s retreating form, him and Nathaniel weaving in and out of view in the swell of the crowd.

“Nathaniel said he would listen too. Dan or Nicky must have told them to expect us after the show.” They both made their way back to the table, sharing the news with Renee and Matt. Andrew couldn’t pay attention to anything they were saying. Nathaniel was back on the stage now, dancing against Kevin, reaching out and offering bits and pieces of himself to the expectant crowd. Something in Andrew tensed at the sight of hands other than his own grabbing Nathaniel’s waist, his legs - and something that was definitely anger flared when someone slapped a hand onto Nathaniel’s ass. Andrew was about to spring from his seat but all Nathaniel did was shake his hips in the direction of the man who had done it. It had barely been over an hour and already Andrew cared too much about someone who meant nothing to him. That’s all Nathaniel was - nothing, a product of the sounds and lights and illusions of this place. As real as any other absinthe sprung hallucination. 

Andrew tried to remind himself of that as he watched Neil and Kevin climb back onto the trapeze. Even as they waved and blew kisses, it lifted them up. Back where they belonged, Andrew thought, far above the masses. He noticed something was wrong a split second before it happened, this time leaping up from his seat with enough force to knock it back. Nathaniel was swaying, his grip on the bar going slack. Andrew could just make out his chest stuttering as if he couldn’t take in enough air. He was going to fall and Andrew was going to watch him die. 

The trapeze kept shooting up, faster now, and Nathaniel was falling down, but before he slipped, Kevin wrapped a hand around his waist, keeping him in place. The smile on his face never faltered, his free hand continuing to wave and then the trapeze was gone, hidden in the rafters and Andrew was left staring into the dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank y'all so much for reading, I really hope you liked it, and hit me up @aglionbyfoxes on tumblr if you ever want to chat!
> 
> I'm so sorry for all the exposition. The movie itself is already so introspective, and I really wanted people to be able to read this and understand what was happening even if they hadn't seen it - but yay!! we're finally getting to the good stuff!!
> 
> Background Notes Time!:
> 
> \- this is the kind of trapeze I would imagine they would use https://i.ytimg.com/vi/USvCGqPp7jU/maxresdefault.jpg  
> \- their first outfits coming down are, in fact, the same one Satine wears in the movie https://i.pinimg.com/originals/56/f0/3c/56f03c09d280e140d733e9978456d941.jpg
> 
> Quite a few notes today, i'm sorry guys! I just want to say that any lines/names I use that may have originally been in the film are not mine and I don't take credit for them. I'm really going to (at worst) try to break up any lyrics with my own dialogue, and (at best) make it all 100% original. But some things are just so important to the movie that it's hard not to leave them in, since it is a musical - for example in this chapter, Wymack's speech on the stage is taken directly from Ziegler's song in the movie.But like I said, i'm going to try not to do that blatantly too too frequently!


End file.
